


Fire Emblem: Three Houses Imagine Requests

by Iced Coffee and Imagines (TheTimeTellingRaven)



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Babies, Blood, Brothers, Concerned Spouses, Confessions, Crushes, Established Relationship, F/F, F/M, Fainting, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Graphic Description, Horseback Riding, Injury, Jealousy, Kidnapping, Miscarriage, Motherhood, Multi, Parenthood, Polyamory, Post-Canon, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Pre-Canon, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Pregnancy, Rescue Missions, Reunions, Self-Sacrifice, Slow Burn, Spoilers, Weddings, Winter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-09-07 22:16:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 17,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20316892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTimeTellingRaven/pseuds/Iced%20Coffee%20and%20Imagines
Summary: A collection of requests surrounding the characters of Three Houses.Rating subject to change.





	1. Edelgard von Hresvelg - Her Pride and Joy

anonymous:  
Hi! Can I ask for an imagine of Edelgard holding her child for the first time? Gender neutral for the kiddo if you are good with it, thank you in advanced!  
\----------  
Hi, Anon! Yes, of course! This is such a sweet imagine aha~ Hope you like it!  
~Latte  
\----------

  * One of the last things the Adrestian Emperor imagined herself being was a mother
  * The labor was long, so long
  * However, the second she saw her newborn babe, heard its soft cries, her war-weary heart melted
  * The midwife placed the child on the new mother’s chest, and Edelgard swore she had never seen something more beautiful
  * Her arms wrapped around the tiny human, its soft grunts settling into a small smile
  * Edelgard laughed gently, moving one of her hands to stroke the child’s—her child’s—cheek
  * She kissed the crown of their head as the newborn settled into sleep
  * To her, the babe was perfect; Crest or no, ruler or knight or artist or merchant—whatever her little one wanted to be, it was fine with her; the child’s path was their own
  * She had built this world for them, after all; and she promised then that she would see her child’s dream through to the end


	2. Hubert von Vestra/f!Reader - A Family, a Gift

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 to "Miscarriage", but can be read as a standalone

Anonymous:

Hubert von Vestra with resder announcing pregnancy that unlike that painful miscarriage,,, actually comes full term and vampire becomes a dad? Or something along those lines? I just need unangsty pregnant reader or dad hubert OOF sorry

\----------

_Hi, Anon! No, don’t feel sorry! Of course you can have some pregnancy/family fluff with the good vampire! ((Also I’m so sorry for making you feel all the sads,,, ..,)) Hope you like it, and thank you for requesting!_

_~Latte ♡_

_\----------_

  * It took time for you both to recover from the miscarriage and to agree to try for a child again
  * Understandably, you and Hubert both were anxious about the prospect, worrying that the same fate may befall the next one
  * The midwife was quick to dispel your fears, Saints bless her; **_“It is an uncommon occurrence and very unlikely to happen again, Count and Countess Vestra”_**
  * There were still worries, _so many worries_; but both you and your husband wanted a family, especially now that rebuilding efforts had begun to slow and Hubert was needed at the palace less and less often

——

  * You shook when the midwife confirmed your suspicions: you were pregnant, roughly seven weeks, by the appearance of things
  * You placed your hand over your lower abdomen; though you had been through this once before, there was, you supposed, always a rush of excitement with this sort of thing
  * Now, the hard part: how to tell your beloved that he was to be a father, again, without worrying the man sick over both yours and the baby’s health

——

  * Hubert stretched his back and shoulders as he stood from his chair, wincing slightly at the stiffness in his neck, and collected the paperwork sprawled across his desk
  * Though the Empire was now relatively stable two years post-war, his duties as Minister of the Imperial Household remained a constant force
  * The Emperor, however, had been gracious enough to allow him to work mostly from the Vestra County, only requesting his presence for extremely important or personal affairs
  * Satisfied that his work was locked away well enough, he straightened and began the walk to find the elegance that was his wife

——

  * He found you in the estate’s gardens, tending to one of the many flowering bushes there, one of your favorites
  * Hubert smiled, his accustomed stoicism falling away at the sight of his little bird in the golden light of the late evening sun
  * You turned, feeling the dark bishop’s presence; how you learned _that_ trick he still did not know
  * Your face brightened as you approached him, your hands settling against his chest; his own raising to caress your arms before sliding to your waist
  * **“I take it this means your work is finished for the day?” **Your voice was pleasant, happy, as you gazed up at him, a surprising depth in your eyes that left the tall man flustered
  * **“It is, yes; and how are you, beloved?”** He replied, bringing one hand to cup your chin and jaw
  * You laughed softly, **“I’m well, thank you.” **_I suppose I should tell him now, if I’m going to_ **“There’s actually something I need to discuss with you”**
  * **“And what would that be?”**
  * You faltered, retreating from him slightly; your heart was pounding against your ribcage
  * Hubert’s brows furrowed, his gaze hardening a fraction as he returned the hand against your face to your hip
  * Your eyes trailed, looking anywhere but the man in front of you, **“Well, ah, what would you say, _if_–and big if–I were to be…pregnant”**
  * His gloved grip tightened for a moment to keep you still, his mind fleeing the situation; _What if the child..no, everything will be fine; the odds are in our favour_
  * He swallowed thickly as he regained his composure, guiding your face to return your gaze to him; **“I–you…you are? Truthfully?”**
  * You nodded, flushing, **“Seven weeks, according to the midwife”**
  * In all your years, you never expected him to laugh; Count Hubert von Vestra, ever-unapproachable Minister of the Imperial Household, was laughing like a child seeing his first heavy snowfall
  * His golden-green eyes shimmered as he looked at you, so full of emotion it captured the breath from your lungs
  * Hubert leaned down, pressing his forehead to yours, a smile quite similar to the one he held the previous time you told him on his face
  * You smiled and exhaled shakily as the earlier fear ebbed away, bringing your hands up to caress his sharp jawline and cheekbones before wrapping your arms around his back; **“So, you are excited about the prospect of an heir?”**
  * He pressed a kiss to your forehead and pulled you close, letting his chin rest atop your head, **“Excited? Most definitely; but not for an heir, starling; for a family”**

——

  * The pregnancy this time was a successful one, with you carrying the child to a healthy thirty-eight weeks
  * The newborn had his father’s dark hair and your gentle eyes, a truly stunning mixture of the both of you
  * To say you were both elated was a drastic understatement; you do not believe you have ever seen your husband smile so much
  * You pressed your forehead to his as you held your child, your son, between the two of you, Hubert’s arms wrapped more than a little protectively around you and the babe
  * You felt him kiss the top of your head, his hold bringing you closer; his voice was no louder than a whisper, **“Thank you for allowing me this gift, my beloved”**


	3. Hubert von Vestra/f!Reader - That's One Way to Find Out

Anonymous:

would you be able to write something on Reader figuring out she’s pregnant while her and Hubert are in town and she faints without warning? You’re like the authority of Hubert and pregnant reader now I’m so sorry

\--------

Don’t be sorry, Anon! That’s a title I proudly wear aha ^^ All the love for the good, edgelord husband

Also I love this ask; pregnancy, tidbits of suspension, and concerned partners/spouses are my jam. I got you covered ;)

_((How do these always end up so long??? Hubert, you beautiful, magic-using good boi;;;))_

~Latte ღ

\--------

  * The market was always beautiful this time of year; farmers and craftsmen lined the streets of Enbarr’s shopping district, displaying their finest wares
  * You and Hubert had been in the bustling square for hours now, admiring and purchasing what you both had needed, for either work, leisure, or living in general
  * Of course, you had servants you could send for tasks of this nature; it was just far easier to do it yourselves
  * Plus, spending time together like this was rare; Hubert’s position as one of the Emperor’s closest confidants requiring him to stay away for far longer than you would have liked
  * He never told you what his job entailed, but by this point you had learned better than to ask (it had been a point of argument more than once in your early relationship); the man had his secrets, and that was that

——–

  * You had paused to admire a bouquet when you felt Hubert’s hand come to rest against your lower back, his other palm up toward you
  * His voice was low, even, **“Are you feeling alright? You appear pale”**
  * In truth, you had been a touch off today, but not enough to consider yourself sick by any means
  * You did not want to worry him though; you smiled, tilting your head to look at him and placing your hand in his free one, **“I’m fine, love, really. It’s spring; small colds are common”**
  * His brows furrowed, not convinced in the slightest, thumb skimming over the top of the hand that held his; **“Even still, perhaps we should return to the esta–”**
  * Never had the count felt his heart drop as it did when you collapsed
  * He caught you, of course; you were half in his hold as it was
  * His arm wrapped further around your waist to guide your fall into him, carefully kneeling and lowering you to the ground

——–

  * The next few hours passed in a near blur: somewhere along the way a healer approached and roused you, and a runner was fetched to call for a carriage back to the Vestra manor
  * You fell back into a light sleep on the ride home, your head nestled into the crook of your husband’s neck, your breathing steady
  * To say Hubert was nervous about the situation, dare he say even _scared_, would be an understatement
  * What was wrong with you? Were you injured? Sick? Poisoned? The unknown had never been a friend of his, especially not when it came to his wife
  * He let his slim cheek rest against your forehead, his hold on your knee tightening; he was not a praying man, but he hoped to any deity that would listen that this was nothing too serious

——–

  * The resident healer of the Vestra household examined you upon your arrival
  * Hubert paced outside the room, pausing occasionally to glace out the window before resuming, hands folded behind his back
  * Eventually, the doctor opened the large, mahogany door and motioned the raven-haired man in
  * You were awake and alert, smiling when you saw your beloved; you did not miss the way the tension left his shoulders, his stance and expression relaxing considerably
  * **“Count Vestra, please, sit; there is something we must discuss”**
  * Hubert briefly looked as if he would question the older man before he turned and sat in a chair by the bedside
  * You reached your hand out to lay over your husband’s; you were still ashy in complexion, but you appeared to be better than you were
  * **“Count and Countess Vestra,”** the healer began, clearing his throat, **“have either of you any explanation for what happened today?”**
  * The dark bishop was quick to bite back, cynicism evident, **“If we did, we would not have needed your appraisal”**
  * The old doctor, long used to his lord’s wit, simply smiled, **“I suppose that is true; however, I felt it necessary to ask. Have either of you discussed the possibility of starting a family?”**
  * The shock that crossed both of your faces made the answer clear enough
  * You stammered, face flushing sharply, **“I-we-well, ah, not particularly, no”**
  * Hubert was slower to speak, ever calculating, ever anticipating, **“Are you implying what I believe you to be: that my wife is with child?”**
  * The healer leaned back against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, and nodded, **“I am, indeed, sir; the countess is with child. Close to three months, even, I would wager, based on the appearance of things”**
  * Both of you were still, hands still overlapped; you could not be sure–most likely you would never truly know–but you swore you felt Hubert’s hand trembling under yours
  * He recovered faster, swallowing thickly before responding, **“And I would assume, with your telling us this, that both the countess and the child are alright?”**
  * **“In perfect health. She simply became too fatigued; to grow a child is no small feat” **The doctor smiled then, **“I suppose I should take my leave then; have either of you any questions before I go?”**
  * You shook your head, feeling your husband’s gaze fall to you; your voice was quiet, awestruck, **“No, no, I…that will be all; thank you”**
  * **“Of course. A good day to you, Count and Countess Vestra, and congratulations”**

——–

  * The room was silent for a moment, the air heavy but..oddly light, pleasant even
  * Hubert flipped his hand under yours, lacing your fingers with his and bringing your hand up, kissing the back of it softly
  * You drew in a shaky breath, the events of the day nearly overwhelming and finally settling into reality
  * His yellow-green eyes cast their gaze back to you, gentle, reverent
  * **“How? I…I don’t–Hubert…”**
  * His voice was quiet, softer than you had ever heard it, **“We will be fine, starling.”** He placed his other hand over the one of yours he held
  * He chuckled dryly, some of his earlier snark returning, **“Though, I suppose that is one way to find out something so life-changing”**


	4. Claude von Riegan/Reader - Taking the Hit

anonymous asked:

Claude's crush taking a hit for him during battle

\--------

You got it, Anon! Hope you enjoy!

((Had to heckin’ retype this because I accidentally clicked away from it skjskjs Tumblr make inboxes draftable please;;;;))

((GD husband and angst?? Y’all blessed enablers,,,))

~Latte

\--------

  * The battle was raging: metal blades clanging as their owners met, magic snapping through the air, soldiers crying as they fell to the opposing force
  * Claude was holding the front lines, nocking arrow after arrow as the enemy continued to advance
  * He was catching his breath after pushing the enemy back once again; they had been fighting for hours, but the foreign reinforcements had not stopped
  * He surveyed the field, sharp eyes evaluating, calculating
  * You were nearby, landing the final blow to an enemy lancer, a grimace crossing your face as he fell, blood painting the earth a sick shade of red
  * Though he would not consider you one of his most trusted (that was a hard title to earn, after all), Claude_ did_ consider you a good friend–you were capable, loyal, determined, amiable…there was certainly something special about you
  * Alright, the more the he thought about it, maybe you sounded like a bit more than just a friend

——–

  * In his brief reverie, the archer failed to notice an opposing axeman approaching him, expression intent to kill
  * You, turning to your leader to question the next move, however, had not
  * You acted on instinct, rushing forward, weapon at the ready
  * You gasped as you felt the axe slice through your shoulder, metal cutting through your leather armor easily
  * The whizz of an arrow sounded against your ear, lodging itself into the enemy’s neck; you saw him fall to his knees, eyes glassy;_ A perfect shot_
  * You felt a hand against your back–Claude, you realized–helping to lower you easily to the ground;_ When did your legs get so weak?_
  * He called over his shoulder,** “Ignatz, get Marianne over here!”**
  * His face turned back to yours, concern flitting across his expression,** “Hey, it’s gonna be alright, yeah? Stay with me”**

——–

  * The bed in the infirmary was soft, warm from the sunlight filtering through the windows
  * Your nose scrunched, eyes squeezing further shut at the intrusion of the harsh light as you attempted to turn away
  * …only to feel pain shoot through your side; you sucked in a breath through your teeth
  * A male voice chuckled, tone light,** “Well, happy to see that you’re awake; you gave us quite the scare”**
  * You crackled your eyes open, letting them adjust, and turned to find Claude leaning back in a wooden chair next to the bed; he looked tired, but no worse for the wear, thankfully
  * You smirked, huffing softly,** “Just glad to see that you’re alright”**
  * His brows furrowed,** “I’m not the one that almost got cut in half; if it hadn’t been for my carelessness, you wouldn’t have either”**
  * You hummed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes with your good hand,** “It was my decision to make.”** Your tone shifted to a prodding one, joking,** “You are our leader; you taking a fatal hit wouldn’t have been good for morale”**
  * Claude scoffed a laugh, turning his head away briefly before finding your gaze again, his green eyes relaxed, sincere,** “Still, thank you; to have an ally willing to risk their own neck is…humbling”**
  * **“You have big dreams; it would help to be alive for them, wouldn’t it?”**
  * **“It would certainly make them easier.”** His voice softened,** “Though, I’ve been thinking, those dreams would be a lot better with someone to share them, you know?”**
  * You blinked, mind working, processing,** “Claude, I…Really?”**
  * The young man cleared his throat, glancing away again,** “Yeah, I mean, I’ve liked you for awhile now and, it…just fits? Though if you don’t feel the same way I completely–”**
  * **“Claude.”** You paused, smiled, giving him time to refocus solely on you,** “I feel the same way”**
  * The smile that crossed his face was genuine, meeting his eyes; he winked,** “Well then, guess you gotta get better, huh? If we’re gonna conquer our hopes and dreams and all”**


	5. Sylvain Jose Gautier/f!Reader - No Competition

anonymous asked:

Sylvain's s/o trying to hide a black eye from him, then not returning back from town at night only for him to find out a bunch of jealous women after him beat her up?

\--------

Aah I love this, Anon;; Hope you enjoy! Thank you!

_((Also, I’m so sorry this took so long,,,))_

~Latte ♡

\--------

  * Sylvain glanced up from his seat in the classroom, brown eyes locking on your figure as you entered
  * He called for you, motioning you to the empty space next to him with a wink
  * You smiled as you trotted over to your boyfriend, being careful to keep your hair over your bruised eye
  * You sat down gently and placed your books and lecture notes on the desk in front of you
  * You felt his fingers begin to skim through your hair and jolted back;_ He can’t know; it’s nothing serious_;_ he’d only worry_
  * His smooth voice halted your train of thought,** “Everything alright, angel?”**
  * A flush rose to your cheeks at almost having to explain the situation,** “Yep, all good!”** You turned to face the redhead, reassuring smile on your face,** “And how are you, Sylvain?”**
  * **“I’m…fine. You sure you’re okay?”**
  * **“Posi–”** your conversation was cut short as Professor Byleth tapped his hand against the chalkboard, signaling the start of class; you patted Sylvain’s arm in affirmation as you opened your book for lecture

——–

  * Sylvain was worried; you were supposed have returned from town hours ago
  * He spoke to Seteth about the situation, requesting to leave Monastery grounds after curfew to search for you
  * It took a bit of bartering, but, eventually, the older man sighed, consenting;** “Just be back before midnight, Mister Gautier”**
  * **“Of course! Thanks, Seteth!”**
  * The archbishop’s right-hand watched the redhead leave and pinched the bridge of his nose, murmuring,** “Sometimes I feel you are hopeless, Mister Gautier; however, your love for her does redeem you”**

——–

  * Sylvain did not quite know what he expected to find, but it certainly was not you in tears curled up against the wall of an alley between two shops
  * He kneeled in front of you, reaching forward and brushing the hair away from your face and behind your ears, letting his hands rest against your cheeks**  
**
  * **“Babe? What…what happened?”**
  * You glanced up, the concern in his eyes and voice so unlike his usual cocky demeanor
  * You broke your gaze quickly, turning your head anywhere but the young man in front of you
  * He let his hands slip to hold your upper arms, thumbs stroking lightly
  * You were bruised and disheveled, your lip split and one eye swollen from an obvious hit, cheeks glinting with tear trails; there were scratches and other contusions too, littered across your arms and legs
  * Sylvain’s eyes narrowed, brows knitted together in both concern and righteous anger;_ Who could’ve done this?_
  * You felt his hands move to press under your knees and around your back, the cavalier lifting you up against his chest;** “Come on, let’s get you back to the monastery”**

——–

  * Instead of taking you to the infirmary, he carried you to your dorm
  * The door was unlocked, as all students’ were when roaming the grounds
  * Sylvain set you on your bed, stepping away only to close the door before returning to your side, sitting down gingerly as to not jostle you further
  * Taking one of your hands in his, he kissed it softly, his brown eyes questioning, but not pushing;_** “Please, talk to me, angel”**_
  * You sighed, gaze cast at your legs, running your other hand through your messy hair
  * You bit the inside of your cheek, squeezing your boyfriend’s hand, voice brittle,** “It was just some girls from the academy; nothing to worry about”**
  * **“You’re joking, right? This is _definitely_ something to worry about”**
  * **“Sylvain–”**
  * **“I’m not dropping this, babe.”** His arm slid from your hand to around your waist, scooting closer as he did so
  * You ran your tongue over your lower lip, nose scrunching at the copper taste there.** “They were jealous, saw me as a threat; they saw a chance to ‘get me out of the way’ and they took it”**
  * **“Jealous? Of what? I mean, not that there isn’t loads to be envious of, look at you, but–”**
  * **“–Of us, our relationship.”** You felt fresh tears stinging your eyes
  * The heir next to you was quiet, musing over how to respond
  * Finally,** “Is that why you were hiding your face from me in class today?”**
  * You could only nod, eyes falling to trace the patterns in the rugHe leaned over, pressing a kiss to your temple, whispering,** “You know you’re the only one for me, right? Those other girls don’t hold a candle to you”**
  * You smiled, leaning into Sylvain and shifting your head to his shoulder, his hand sliding up to rub your back
  * **“Just promise me one thing, babe”**
  * You hummed in response, your hand finding its way to the redhead’s knee
  * **“That you’ll tell me when things like this happen–or anything that bothers you, really–talk to me about it; we’ll work through it”**
  * You nodded, snuggling deeper into his hold, **“I will, and, Sylvain?”**
  * **“Mm-hm?”**
  * **“I love you”**
  * He laughed breathily, finding your hand again,** “I love you too”**


	6. Hubert von Vestra/Blue Lion!Reader - His Loyalty, His Choice

****anonymous asked:

Could I get angsty Hubert? Maybe something happened to his s/o or maybe he has to choose between Edelgard and his s/o? Something like that.

\--------

Hi, Anon! You absolutely can; heart-ripping angst delivered right to your dash

~Latte ♥

((Also, please let me know if you would like a second part to this because, _yo_, do I have an idea;; This was so fun to write))

((Angst, angst, angst; also **spoilers**; y’all have been warned))

\--------

  * Being a member of the Blue Lions, it came as a surprise when you began to develop feelings for the tactician of the Black Eagles and Edelgard’s right-hand, Hubert von Vestra
  * Even more shocking, your attraction was reciprocated, the dark mage eventually confessing, albeit more than a little callously
  * Afterward, you tried desperately to switch classes, nearly begging Professor Byleth
  * They still would not let you into the Black Eagles;** “We have no need of your specialty as of current; besides, I’m not sure that there’s much more I could teach you that your professor would not cover”**
  * Even Hubert tried to convince Byleth to let you switch, to no avail;** “Look, I understand that the two of you are fond of each other, but I cannot just accept students for no more valid reason than personal attachment”**

——–

  * Graduation approached quickly, with all students preparing for life after the academy
  * Edelgard and Hubert disappeared quite frequently, returning to Enbarr or traveling to the town nearby for supplies, according to them, at least
  * You confronted the heir of Vestra multiple times on the matter, always leaving with more questions than answers;_** “It’s nothing to trouble yourself with. We all have our secrets; surely you can respect that”**_

——–

  * After Edelgard revealed herself as the Flame Emperor and declared war on the church, you did not know what to think; you felt betrayed, cold; your heart felt like ice
  * You realized now why Hubert had been so secretive, even with you: he was far too involved with the now-ruler’s plans, going so far as to kill his father to eliminate a possible coup

——–

  * The next time Hubert saw you was in the Battle of Garreg Mach
  * You were on the enemy’s side, taking down the Imperial forces that crossed your path with the help of your classmates–now your siblings in arms
  * Something in the tactician’s chest tightened; what a pair the two of you would have made
  * He spun on his heel and blasted a thief with Banshee Θ, watching as the teenager–a former student, to be sure–collapsed
  * Hubert caught your eyes then; you had spotted the dark mage upon hearing your former ally scream somewhere to your right
  * You did not think–could not, if you were to avoid breaking completely; you readied your weapon and lunged, fully intent on attacking the one you once held fondness for
  * Perhaps somewhere, you still did
  * He dodged your attack, retaliating with a spell; Miasma Δ, if you recalled
  * You cried as you felt the dark magic course through you, stumbling to your knees;_ When did he become so strong?_
  * He loomed over you, hands quietly folded behind his back, golden gaze piercing
  * Feeling tears in your eyes, you spat,** “If you’re going to kill me, then do it”**
  * **“I have no such intentions”**
  * **“Coward”**
  * **“My, what bite.”** He stepped closer, bloodied, black boots falling into your peripheral,** “I’m surprised you’ve forgotten me so quickly”**
  * You swallowed in a vain attempt to steady your voice, dripping with venom,** “I haven’t forgotten _anything, _Hubert von Vestra.”** Tears now ran down your face, dripping onto the scorched earth; you whispered,** “How could you do this?”**
  * He remained silent, forcing his eyes shut and sighing; you would never understand his motives; you were on opposing sides of this war;_ If I could change your mind, I would_
  * A feminine voice shouted over the din of grating metal and crackle of fire,** “Send in the reinforcements, and give my uncle the signal!”**
  * Hubert hummed, tilting his head towards the sound; he addressed you,** “It seems we will have to cut this reunion short.”** Magic flickered under his feet,**“Until the next time we meet”**;_ My loyalty lies with her_
  * Before you could even form a response, he was gone
  * You clenched your hands into fists, nails digging into your palms; your breath was ragged, trying to regain some semblance of composure; your heart plunged to your stomach
  * Despite the fires raging around you, the air felt like ice; you shivered
  * You heard Dimitri call over the ruins of the monastery, an attempt to gather the remnants of your class together; shakily, you stood, grabbing your weapon;_ Next time, Hubert, I won’t hesitate_


	7. Hubert von Vestra/f!Reader - Wedding Woes

anonymous asked:

You say you like suspension and concerned partners? Have I got the ask for you... Hubert and his dear reader are about to be married, but she doesn’t show up to walk down the aisle. He thinks he’s been left at the altar, until someone goes to check her room and it’s revealed she’s actually been kidnapped!

\--------

Boy, howdy, Anon; concerned Hubert makes me a happy sap. You got it! Y’all have such good ideas;;;

<strike>Also weddings; my lonely heart loves weddings</strike>

((I wanted to throw in a line about “It’s improper to see the bride before the wedding,” but, alas, it didn’t fit))

~Latte ❣

\--------

  * Hubert glanced at his pocket watch, shifting his feet as the seconds ticked by
  * He returned the ornate piece to his inner coat pocket and folded his hands, letting his gold eyes wander around the small cathedral
  * Byleth stood next to him, holding a leather-bound book; not a tome, but a wedding book, pages marked and brown from most-likely centuries of use
  * The teal-haired man chuckled, voice low,** “Nervous, my friend?”**
  * Hubert responded with a short laugh of his own,** “And you would not be? Honestly now”**
  * Byleth smiled,** “It’s almost time for the ceremony to begin. Are you ready?”**
  * At the groom’s nod, he cast his gaze to the back doors of the chapel, nodding at the ushers to open the large, dark-stained doors
  * Hubert took a deep breath, clasping his hands behind his back and letting his gaze fall to the entryway
  * First entered Caspar, guiding Dorothea; the groomsmen had worn true black tuxedos with wine red bow ties and cummerbunds; the bridesmaids were attired in wine red, floor-length gowns, holding dainty bouquets
  * Following them were Linhardt with Bernadetta, and finally came Ferdinand with Petra; after the bridal party separated, the guests stood
  * The first few notes of the organ rang through the church, all eyes cast in the direction of the bride’s place of entry; you were to be led by Edelgard, who happily agreed to give you away to your groom and her best friend
  * The seconds turned into minutes; Hubert’s heart was pounding, though his face showed no indication of it; the bridal party and Byleth all glanced between him and the doorway, faces growing increasingly worried;_ Where were you?_

_——–_

  * No one noticed Edelgard sneak into the room until she tapped the count on the shoulder, motioning for him to bend down; she whispered, only for him to hear,** “The bride’s missing”**
  * His face turned fully to her, voice just as low;_ Surely not_;** “Lady Edelgard, you are positive?”** He motioned for the seven around them to move closer
  * **“On my life. Her dressing room is a wreck. I had only just left her alone to collect herself before the ceremony. I searched everywhere; I fear she may have been taken”**
  * Eight pairs of eyes widened; Hubert, ever collected, even in the most troubling circumstances, straightened,** “Then, I leave the dismissal of our guests to you.”** Dark magic started to settle in his palm–a teleportation spell, his specialty
  * Caspar spoke first,** “And just where are you going?”**
  * The magic flickered more, his tone surprisingly nonchalant,** “To find my bride”**
  * **“You can’t go alone!”** Dorothea, this time
  * **“We’ll meet you at the stables,”** Edelgard then
  * **“I won’t be there; find us when you will,”** the spell complete, he vanished
  * **“Huber–!”** The Emperor groaned, shaking her head. Addressing the now very much bewildered guests, she began,** “My apologies, our beloved guests, but it seems we have had a slight issue…”**

——–

  * Hel had no fury like a lover worried
  * Your kidnappers had been clumsy: a muddy footprint here, a chipped dagger there; it was easy enough for Hubert to figure out who had taken you–he had acquaintances in many places, after all
  * The thieves never saw it coming; dark magic condensing and slamming into them, dropping them quickly
  * Hubert stalked from the shadows, straightening his jacket and dismissing his tome, gold eyes surveying every inch
  * You sat on a rickety table in one corner of the room, wrists and ankles tied and appearance slightly disheveled, still in your dress, legs swinging gently back and forth
  * You smiled as his gaze fell to you; you were gorgeous, even in present circumstances; his heart skipped
  * He quirked an eyebrow, smirking as he approached,** “Well, you certainly seem in high spirits.”** He paused in front of you, head tilted, expression shifting to a genuine smile,** “You look stunning”**
  * You barked a laugh,** “Do I now? Still tied and in the enemy’s base?”** Your eyes were soft, coy
  * The Imperial minister huffed a laugh at your response, feeling heat rise at his nape, and snapped his fingers with a role of his eyes; the ropes frayed and broke
  * **“Impressive”**
  * **“Child’s play.”** He offered his hand, helping you slide off the table
  * He brought your hand up, lightly kissing the back of it; his other hand found your waist, guiding you closer
  * You giggled, letting your free hand rest against his chest,** “Thank you, by the way”**
  * His expression was gentle, reverent even; he chuckled, voice low,** “Of course. For you, I would tear the world asunder”**
  * You smiled, cheeks flushing; you looked down, biting your lip. Your hand curled around his silk lapel, and you felt the hand at your waist skim across the small of your back
  * Hubert bent and kissed your brow; letting his head tilt to rest his forehead against yours
  * Your eyes closed; you smiled, dragging the hand at his torso up to caress his jaw and cheek, brushing his hair away from his right eye;_ Goddess, did you love this man_

_——–_

  * Hubert was the first to pull away, baritone just barely loud enough to hear,** “I suppose we should consider returning”**
  * Your eyes met his, moving the hand still clasped in his to around his neck, thumb hooking under the back of his collar
  * You blinked languidly, gaze trailing down his sharp features and landing on his sternum; you smiled, echoing,** “I suppose so.”** Your soft voice found a kittenish undertone,** “We have a wedding to reschedule, don’t we.”** It was more of a statement than a question
  * His now-empty hand traced down your side to your waist, locking with the other hand to secure you against him. 
  * He chuckled airily,** “We do; however, it can wait until today’s excitement has passed”**
  * You laughed with him, smile broadening, and pulled him back down as you raised on your toes
  * You kissed him then, soft and easy; one of his hands left your back to cup your chin, tilting your head to deepen the contact
  * Mutually pulling away, you gazed at each other, nothing but adoration in the other’s expression
  * His hand moved to hold your jaw as you parted further, your heels clicking softly as they hit the floor
  * **“I love you”**
  * **“I love you too”**


	8. Claude von Riegan/f!Reader - Battlefields and Babies

** **Do you repeat requests with other characters? Cause if so, the finding out their pregnant by fainting with Claude! If not, I’m sorry!** **

**OK WAIT I just sent the Claude ask for the funding out their pregnant by fainting prompt. But i’d like to make one tweak if I’m allowed: they’re not in the town when it happens, but rather on the battlefield! **

\--------

Hi, Anon! I do repeat prompts, yes. You and I have similar brains haha; I was actually leaning towards something close for that setting to this one. Your wish is my command!

((Also thank you for being so patient;;;))

~Latte ♡

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  * The sound of wings beating the sky filled the air, wyvern and pegasus riders scouting overhead for the enemy
  * The shriek of a pegasus and rider tore through the battalion as both knight and beast fell, arrows lodged in the mare’s wings
  * Claude, perched atop his wyvern and leading the charge, signaled for the dismount of those with him;** “We’ll remount once the archers are taken care of”**

——–

  * You, part of a separate brigade and Claude’s wife, were engaged with a small unit of enemy forces on the far side of the battlefield
  * Your mount swooped, allowing you to land a solid hit on an enemy swordsman, before swinging back into the sky, great wings pounding to gain distance
  * You shifted your weight, your mount turning at your silent command, circling back for a follow up attack
  * Another cry pierced the field, this time of a wyvern and his rider, both falling as the small dragon flipped, arrows shredding his wings
  * You could only spare a glance at your fallen comrade before refocusing on your fight; you clucked to the beast beneath you, again sending her diving at the foe beneath you
  * Your weapon made contact as you swept past, felling the swordsman; a queasiness rose in your stomach as the impact ricocheted through your arm and shoulder
  * You reined your mount to an airborne halt, wings beating to keep you aloft; you swallowed thickly, catching your breath
  * It was dangerous to be flying this low, in perfect range of enemy archers; clicking again, the saddled beast rose to rejoin with the rest of your battalion
  * You swallowed again, grimacing at the taste of bile in your throat;_ You had been in countless battles before; why were you feeling so ill now?_
  * Your mount tossed her head and snorted, sensing her rider’s lapse in health; you sheathed your weapon and patted her neck
  * Hearing more wings, you turned in your saddle; Claude’s battalion was approaching, regrouping to finish the battle
  * Another arrow whizzed between the brigades, nearby mounts shying away from the projectile; a soldier further away shouted,** “Enemy reinforcements approaching! Large band of archers spotted to the northeast!”**
  * Claude’s strong voice rose over the thumping of wings,** “Keep a loose formation and don’t let your guard down; dismount if need be; do _not_ get cornered”**
  * Surrounded by shouts of affirmation, you nodded; the rest of the riders disbanded to engage the enemy
  * Claude’s eyes, determined, calculating, met yours; he tapped his wyvern to fly alongside your mount
  * Frowning, his forest gaze studied your visage; you were pale, eyes dulled; you were in no condition to keep fighting
  * You cut him off as he opened his mouth to speak,** “I’m fine, Claude; we’re almost finished here anyway”**
  * His brows furrowed, mouth closing; he heaved a sigh, eyes scanning for arrows or magic,** “Then promise me you’ll see a healer as soon as the battle’s over”**
  * **“I will”**
  * **“Good.”** He raised Failnaught and shot an approaching lancer, both of you watching him fall.** “Just be careful out there, yeah?”**
  * You hummed in affirmation, giving your husband a reassuring smile, and nudged your mount forward, pulling your weapon from its scabbard

——–

  * _Another one down_, you wiped the sweat from your brow with your free hand before patting your beast’s neck; the nausea had not left, in fact, it had worsened
  * You forced yourself to swallow the bile again rising in your chest, surveying the now quiet field around you; so many lay dead, both friend and foe alike
  * You clicked to the mount; she sighed deeply before returning skyward
  * You felt the world shift around you, your legs’ ability to grip your saddle gone; you slid from the winged creature, eyes rolling back into your head as the earth pulled you
  * Hearing a host of people shout, Claude turned; his eyes widened, heart plummeting to his feet,_ No, no no no, gods, no_; he spurred his wyvern forward
  * The dragon swerved downward, just enough for Claude to catch you and pull you into his saddle, cradling your limp figure against his chest;_ You weren’t hurt, there was no blood that he could see; what happened?_

——–

  * Claude paced in the hallway, bootfalls echoing off the stone walls; Marianne had been taking care of you since your return to Derdriu
  * Eventually, the door cracked open; a tired, brown eye peeked out at him
  * The duke paused his circuit, attention fully on the priestess; his expression was tired, distraught;_** “What happened to her?”**_
  * She opened the door further, leaning her head against it,** “S-she’s awake now; please, come in”**
  * Claude slipped past Marianne and into the room; he faintly heard the door click shut behind him before the bluenette motioned him to follow
  * He nearly ran when he saw you; barely checking himself, his step quickened, bringing him to your side in seconds; he knelt next to your cot and took your hand in both of his, pressing it against the side of his face and kissing your palm gently
  * You gazed at your husband sleepily, letting your thumb slide over his cheek; you smiled, a ghost of a thing, but it was there
  * His green eyes met yours, shining with tears, though of happiness or fear or relief you did not know
  * Marianne cleared her throat softly, hesitant to halt your reunion; both you and Claude shifted your focus to her
  * She exhaled slowly, motioning the young duke to sit in a chair just behind him; she waited until he had obliged before speaking,** “Well, I..don’t know of any better way to say this other than to just tell you, so…Duke and Duchess Riegan, you are expecting a child”**
  * You deadpanned, now fully awake; you spared a glance at Claude, his mouth agape and eyes wider than you had ever seen
  * Collecting himself, one hand still holding yours, he spoke first,** “Marianne, you–you’re positive?”**
  * **“Absolutely; she’s about five weeks, I would say”**
  * You blinked, your other hand hesitantly traveling to rest on your lower abdomen, your_ child_; you turned again to Claude, a hint of a smile finding its way to your features; your heart felt full, though you were unsure if your husband felt the same
  * Your fear was quickly diminished, however, as his face gradually began to beam
  * He laughed, meeting your eyes;** “We’re gonna be parents,”** he whispered
  * You responded with a laugh of your own, tears blurring your vision
  * As you hurriedly wiped them away, Marianne smiled,** “I will take my leave, then, if there are no questions?”**
  * **“We’ll let you know if we think of any. Thank you, Marianne,”** he nodded his head to her
  * The healer’s smile broadened; she curtsied quickly,** “Of course. A good day to you both then, and congratulations”**
  * Claude waited until the door shut before shakily exhaling; his grip tight around your hand
  * He turned to you again, green eyes bright, happy,** “Well, it certainly has been quite the day”**
  * You chuckled again, reaching to brush his messy hair away from his face; you let your hand linger against his jaw, fingertips tracing along his beard
  * He slowly stood and moved to lean over your frame; kissing your forehead before lowering to let his nose brush against yours
  * Claude’s free hand moved to caress your stomach, shimmering green eyes sliding shut, the most loving smile on his lips
  * You stroked his cheek, brushing a stray tear away,** “I love you”**
  * He kissed you before responding,** “I love you too. And thank you, my darling.”** He winked, voice playful,** “Though, you know you have to stay off the battlefield, right? Can’t have my doe and fawn at risk, now can I?”**
  * You barked a laugh, pressing your head further into the pillows; your fingers slid to hold his chin, holding his gaze,** “I do, yes, but _you_ can’t be getting hurt either”**
  * He chuckled, tilting his head to brush your lips with his,** “Of course not; after all, a stag has to protect his herd”**


	9. Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Musician!Reader - Play for Me

**anonymous asked:**

**If requests are still open, would you be able to write a Felix imagine? Soft Felix with a musician SO? Thank you ❤️**

\--------

Hi, Anon! Soft Felix is a gem; you can absolutely have him

((<strike>Also I’m a total sap for musician!s/o’s because I too play instruments</strike>))

~Latte ♡ ♫

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  * The Harpstring moon had just crested the walls of Garreg Mach as Felix walked through the monastery, the air pleasant with the coming of spring
  * He sighed, pausing his return to his dorm; the breeze carried another sound this night
  * He smiled to himself; he knew who it was–not many of their allies could play an instrument, let alone as well as you
  * His feet moved automatically, carrying him to the source of the music
  * He stayed in the shadows, leaning against the wall as he crossed his arms over his chest, earlier smile returning
  * Your movements were so graceful, fingers moving to catch the notes as they scrolled through your mind; you had no sheet music, only memory to guide you
  * Felix waited until the song was over before speaking, striding from his hiding place with a look of contentment,** “It’s been a long time since I’ve heard you play”**
  * You startled, whirling around to face your intruder; your expression softened when your eyes found only your lover’s form
  * He continued to approach, an easy, relaxed saunter, so different from his usual clipped pace
  * You spoke as he halted next to you,** “I’m surprised you’re still up”**
  * He huffed, amused,** “I had just finished training when I heard you on the walk back to my room.”** He lifted a hand to cradle your jaw, fingers calloused from years of swordsmanship,** “You don’t play much anymore, do you?”**
  * Your face falling told him all that he needed to know, your gaze shifting to the floor. He pressed,** “Why?”**
  * You sighed, bringing one of your hands to wrap around his wrist, leaning into his touch,** “There’s just no time for it”**
  * The distance in your voice stung; this was your passion, he knew that much;_ Why would you throw it away?_
  * He removed his hand from your cheek and tapped your shoulder, a silent request
  * You shifted, giving Felix space to sit next to you; you looked at the young man expectantly, never knowing whether he would speak his mind or just sit and mull in silence
  * He sat close, his thigh and hip brushing against yours; he placed a hand on your leg closest to him
  * You rested your hand over his and laced your fingers together, leaning against his shoulder, perfectly content to stay right there the rest of the night
  * His cheek came to lay against your head, amber gaze falling to your joined hands
  * His rough voice broke the stillness; he was pensive, quiet,** “You and I both know that there’s plenty of downtime to practice. What’s the real reason?”**
  * You sighed, knowing your love would not relent until you told him the truth; bleakly, you whispered,** “It feels wrong, somehow, to be happy while our old friends die at our feet”**
  * He remained silent; raising his head, he slid his hand from under yours, moving to wrap the arm around your shoulders instead, pulling you closer to his lithe frame
  * His tenor startled you,** “Perhaps. But a corpse doesn’t care whether you enjoy yourself or not.”** His copper eyes steeled,** “I’m tired of the living basing their actions around the thoughts of the dead. It changes nothing”**
  * He sighed heavily, idly rubbing your arm; he continued,** “You’re talented, more so than others realize. The practice and effort you’ve put into your music shouldn’t go to waste because of some gods-forsaken war”**
  * You gaped at him, stunned; rarely did the swordsman confide in anyone, even you, let alone praise them; most often his caring nature was buried under double-edged comments
  * Regaining your composure, you wrapped your arms around his waist and nestled your head into his neck,** “Thank you, Felix”**
  * He hummed,** “I just don’t like to see talent wasted”**
  * **“Even still,”** you leaned up and kissed his cheek, the reaction well worth it,** “I appreciate it”**
  * Face flushing scarlet, he stumbled for words before huffing,** “Whatever.”** Tapping your shoulder with his index finger, he changed topic,** “Play for me, will you? We still have over half the night”**
  * **“It’s still late”**
  * **“We don’t march for three days; we’ll catch up on sleep”**
  * You did not need to look at him to hear the smile creep into his voice. You chuckled, mind already browsing through what songs you knew,** “Of course, Felix”**


	10. Hubert von Vestra/f!Reader - Reunited

**anonymous asked:**

**Ok I’m a sucker for reuniting prompts? So like, I’d love to see your take on Hubert and his S/O reuniting at the monastery after she’s been held hostage by bandits for nearly a month? I’d imagine this is when they’re still students and the knights rescue her but I’d love to see your take on it overall. And a side note: Your Hubert writings make me so soft and warm inside. Thank you for writing!**

\--------

Anon, I, too, am a sucker for reunited lovers. I love this prompt so much,,

And thank you! I love writing for goth husband, and I’m so glad that so many of you enjoy reading them. Thank you for supporting!

((Also thank you for being so patient;;))

~Latte ღ

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  * Though it was not often that students went missing during training battles–often being accounted for as alive, wounded, or dead–you, along with several others of your house, were part of the unlucky total that were kidnapped during your last mission
  * From what your classmates had deducted, It had been close to a month now, judging by the moon
  * A harsh bang tore through the gloomy silence of the room, startling its occupants
  * You squinted as the harsh light of day assaulted your vision, the rotten, wooden door of your prison suddenly thrown open 
  * In the entry stood the Knights of Seiros, white armor gleaming in the light 
  * You groaned softly as one of the knights helped you to your feet, your muscles protesting the movement
  * You stumbled, legs unsteady from weeks of disuse; they led you and the others outside, where several horses, pegasi, and wyverns stood saddled for the return trip to the academy

——–

  * The caravan was silent on its journey; you were seated atop a stocky, grey horse, the rhythmic lull of its walk and the gentle warmth of the sun nearly putting you to sleep
  * Garreg Mach loomed hush as you passed through the large, iron gates; your mind too tired to give much thought as to why
  * You later found that the remainder of the Black Eagles, and the other two houses, had been requested to give your exhausted group time to recover upon arrival
  * You were grateful, of course, Saints know you did not want a barrage of questions immediately upon your return
  * Though, your heart did ache slightly knowing that you more than likely would not see your academy sweetheart until tomorrow;_ Goddess, did you miss him_

——–

  * You rolled your shoulders as you shuffled to your dorm that night, unlocking the large, dark wood doors and stepping inside
  * Clicking them shut behind you, you leaned back and let your eyes slide shut; all you wanted to do was sleep
  * You nearly jumped when a deep baritone tsked from in front of you, gaze snapping open and landing on the lanky, raven-haired male sitting at your desk, his thin cheek propped against his gloved hand, form barely illuminated by the candle on your dresser
  * Stance relaxing, your hammering heart began to settle, breath slowing with it
  * **“You act surprised to see me,”** his voice was teasing, though the smile playing at the corners of his mouth gave away his affection
  * You beamed, biting your lower lip; leave it to Hubert to find a way to visit you despite the knights’ orders
  * You pushed yourself off of the door and made your way to him; you were exhausted, yes, but you could never bring yourself to send him away after being apart for a month
  * He straightened in his seat as you came to stand in front of him, golden-green eyes locked on your figure
  * Your hands rose to caress either side of his jaw, your left tucking his hair behind his ear, fingertips skimming his cheekbone
  * The young man allowed his guard to fall, a genuine smile gracing his face as he stood, hands finding your waist; he dipped his brow to rest against yours and tugged you closer to his tall frame
  * You let your hands glide to the back of his neck, loosely tangling them in his hair, your eyes fluttering shut from both fatigue and adoration
  * He hummed, his cat-like eyes watching you for a moment before closing, hands sliding to cradle the small of your back, pulling you flush against him
  * Neither of you spoke. Amorous words were not needed, not tonight; simply being in each other’s presence was more than enough to convey your shared feelings

——–

  * Hubert moved first, pulling his forehead away from yours; his nose brushed the tip of your ear as a hand found your cheek, silken glove soft against your skin
  * He kissed the spot just below your ear, whisper near purring,** “It is late, starling; you need to rest”**
  * You could only nod, bringing one hand to lay over his, pressing further into him
  * He chuckled softly, holding you a moment longer before pulling away, the hand on your face turning to catch your fingers
  * He brought your hand up and kissed the back of it, his gaze, sharp but reverent, finding yours
  * He released you entirely and stepped away from you, magic begin to settle under his feet
  * You wrapped your arms around yourself, holding to what warmth remained; you smiled sleepily as the teleportation spell neared completion, purple light contrasting the black of your uniforms,** “Goodnight, Hubert”**
  * The smile from before crossed his features,** “Goodnight, my bird”**


	11. Felix, Rodrigue, and Glenn Fraldarius - Winter Scouting

**anonymous asked:**

**That last Felix ask was ADORABLE! Poor little Felix... Let Rodrigue tell us more about you! XD reading that made me want to request something myself, would you be willing to write something about father and son time with Rodrigue and Felix? Preferably before Glenn's death(unless they're comforting each other) because I honestly can't take much drama rn, only fluff! Anyways, have fun and thanks in advance! 🌸**

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Thank you, Anon! Glad you enjoyed, and thank you for requesting! You can definitely have some soft father/son(s) bonding with the Fraldarius gents!

~Latte ❤

((also this got real long oop-))

((also _slight (as in, male or female)_ spoiler warning on what Fraldarius looks like–no backstory though–, and slight headcanon on Glenn’s appearance))

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  * The winter was always harsh in northern Faerghus, often blanketing the forested mountains in several inches of snow for months at a time and rarely melting before Harpstring Moon
  * This year was no different, the chill of Guardian Moon settling deep into the land and its residents
  * Felix trotted into the stableyard, aqua coat fastened up to his chin; his father and brother stood with their horses fully tacked, talking as they waited for the youngest Fraldarius
  * The boy caught his breath once he slowed, having ran from the top floor of the manor to the yard; the frigid air nipped at his nose and throat
  * Rodrigue chuckled, ruffling his smaller son’s navy hair; Glenn simply shook his head, the small upward quirk of his lip easily missable
  * The duke checked his white mare’s girth once more, addressing his children,** “Are you boys ready? We’d best leave soon, if we’re to return by nightfall”**
  * The elder brother nodded, examining his dark bay stallion’s equipment once more; satisfied, he swung easily into the saddle
  * Felix nodded excitedly, shifting his weight from foot to foot; it was his first time surveying their territory with his family
  * Once mounted, his father reached down and helped Felix onto the mare’s back, setting the small boy in front of him in the saddle
  * Clucking to the beast, the trio headed into the evergreen forest

——–

  * The horses’ hooves beat softly against the snow-covered earth, breaths and the occasional snort puffing warm in the frigid air
  * Felix was enthralled, examining every inch of the changed landscape of his home with wide, amber eyes
  * Glenn rode beside them, he and their father occasionally striking conversation about the latest affairs of the royal family, memories of battle, or tales of the Fraldarius’ ancestors
  * The youngest’s eyes widened, a sharp sound of surprise left him before Glenn covered his brother’s mouth with his hand, the two horses halting at their riders’ commands; before them stood a great elk stag, his antlers large, stance proud; it was a creature Felix had only ever seen mounted in the family’s Great Hall
  * The elk watched them, wary, but not afraid; when he looked away, Glenn began to take his bow
  * Rodrigue placed a hand on his eldest son’s wrist, his blue eyes on the animal before glancing to his father;_** “Let him go”**_
  * With a smile, the duke’s eyes flicked down to Felix, young face still filled with awe; Glenn relaxed, slowly taking his reins again
  * The elk gradually wandered away; once he was gone, Rodrigue tapped his mare’s sides, signaling her forward, Glenn’s stallion following
  * The older man spoke,** “One of the stags of Fraldarius; beautiful creatures, aren’t they?”** He tapped his saddlemate’s leg
  * The navy-haired boy nodded enthusiastically, midnight strands falling into his face; he huffed them away
  * Rodrigue brushed them back, chuckling; he turned his head to the elder brother,** “We’ll head to the ridge, examine the land from there, then head back”**
  * Glenn nodded curtly; addressing his brother,** “Y’know, it’s said that Fraldarius loved those elk; she would fly alongside herds of them as they ran through fields in the summer. Because of her adoration, they grew large and powerful, still now rarely fearful of those who bear her bloodline”**
  * Felix’s large, amber eyes gazed at the young man, awed by the short legend; Glenn smirked, to anyone else it would appear cocky, but his brother knew better: that was just the Fraldarius heir’s way

——–

  * The remainder of the ride was silent, save for small bouts of conversation among the three
  * They had allowed the horses rest at the ridge, dismounting and giving Felix his first opportunity to overlook the entirety of the Fraldarius Dukedom, with glimpses of Gautier and Itha territories to the north, Fhirdiad and Blaiddyd to the southwest, and Conand and Galatea to the south
  * The sight was breathtaking to the youngest, gaze trailing over the silver-coated landscape, near shimmering in the rich light of early evening
  * Rodrigue gave him time to admire the spectacle, discussing politics and the knighthood with Glenn in the meantime

——–

  * They soon remounted, however, the return ride quiet save for Felix’s occasional questions about something he had seen
  * The chill of evening had begun to seep through the trio’s coats by the time they returned to the manor, the earliest of stars beginning to shine in the eastern sky
  * Rodrigue and Glenn handed their horses off to waiting stablehands, taking off their heavy outerwear once they stepped inside; Felix was long since there, sitting by the roaring fireplace in the Solar room, a thick, wool blanket wrapped around him
  * On the announcement of supper in the Great Hall, the older man turned to his elder son, patting the young man on the shoulder,** “Go on; I’ll get your brother”**
  * Glenn nodded, glancing at the small bundle once more before turning on his heel and leaving
  * Rodrigue walked easily toward Felix, boots softly thudding against the dark cedar floor
  * He chuckled as he knelt to untangle the mess of blankets and child on the floor, again sweeping the boy’s hair out of his face; it never did want to stay in place
  * His blue eyes met Felix’s copper, the latter tilting his head back to look at his father; Felix grinned, a small laugh bubbling in his throat
  * His grin broadened as his father picked him up, small arms wrapping around the duke’s neck
  * Rodrigue’s voice was playful, not holding a hint of the gravity he so often kept,** “Did you enjoy yourself today?”**
  * The younger son nodded enthusiastically,** “When can we go again?”**
  * The blue-eyed man laughed,** “At least not for another week, maybe two; a large storm is coming, and it would be unwise to travel before the ice melted”**
  * Felix huffed; a week was more than his patience would have liked, but at least he had something to look forward to


	12. Hubert/Edelgard/f!Reader - Her...Saviors?

**anonymous asked:**

**Can you do a scenario (or hcs if you prefer) and Hubert and Edelgard in a polyamorous relationship with a sweet s/o who gets kidnapped and they (and the eagles) go to save her but she's already killed them all?**

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Anon, I am, in fact, very, very soft for Hubert/Edelgard anything; you got it!

~Latte ❤❤

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  * An Imperial soldier rushed into the throne room, quickly bowing in proper greeting to the Emperor, his breath shallow,** “Your Majesty, a messenger has arrived. It appears that one of the court’s ladies has been taken hostage”**
  * Edelgard straightened on the deep ruby throne, her legs uncrossing as her forearms fell to the arms of the chair; at her right, Hubert’s posture stiffened, a general’s stance, hands clasped firmly behind his back
  * Her voice was level,** “Which one?”**_ Please tell me it’s not–_
  * Upon hearing your name, however, both Emperor and retainer felt their hearts drop, though their expressions did not waver;_ Their lover? Impossible_
  * Her grip on the throne’s gilded armrests tightening, Edelgard responded,** “Noted; thank you. You are dismissed.”** She addressed the royal guard stationed throughout the room, tone clipped, unquestionable,** “Ready the Strike Force. We move at once”**

——–

  * Hubert and Edelgard walked down the palace’s corridor, heels of their boots tapping lightly against the marble floor; Edelgard brandished Aymr, the large Relic twitching in her hand
  * **“Have you found anything on our adversary, Hubert?”** She was harsh–unintentionally so, he knew; she was worried**   
**
  * **“Your Majesty, you doubt me.”** He chuckled,** “We already have their location pinpointed; the scouts have returned with reports of their numbers–far fewer than our own. This mission should be over before nightfall” **
  * The towheaded woman paused suddenly, the minister nearly knocking into her. Her lavender eyes rose to him over her shoulder, her voice much softer now,** “Do you…do you think she’s alright? She never enjoyed the thought of war, after all”**
  * After a brief glance to insure they were alone, he clasped his hands around her upper arms, bending to place his head level with hers. His baritone was easy, soothing,** “She will fine, my eagle. She can play her cards well, enough to survive until we can find her”**
  * None save the Black Eagle Strike Force knew of the relationship the three shared; with the Empire at war, it was far safer for all of their positions to remain professional. In brief moments like this though, their titles could be forgotten
  * Hubert pulled away, far too soon for Edelgard’s liking, looming as her shadow once more; his tone became tactical,** “Now, then, I believe the Strike Force is ready to march, Your Majesty”**

——–

  * The Black Eagles arrived at the encampment–_her prison_, Edelgard noted bitterly–no later than three hours past the order to march
  * The base was quiet, however, far too quiet; nothing moved, nothing breathed
  * Color your rescuers surprised, then, to find you calmly exiting the nearest tent, leafing through a crudely bound book
  * You glanced up, your eyes finding your lovers at the forefront; you beamed, rocking between your heels and the balls of your feet
  * Edelgard and Hubert vaguely heard Caspar speak–**“Wait, she’s supposed to be kidnapped, right?”**–their minds caught in several trains of thought
  * You walked toward the group, closing the book and tucking it into your belt; now that you were closer, they could see dark, ruddy stains along the hem of your dress and sleeves._ Blood?_
  * Your lovers shared a glance before Edelgard addressed you, striding forward to meet you,** “What happened? Are you hurt? Did you…did you free yourself?”**
  * Your gaze shifted from her, up to the dark bishop, then away from them both, smile turning sheepish,** “Well, I…I had to do something. I’m sorry, El”**
  * **“No! No.. Don’t apologize.”** Her lavender eyes ran over your figure, concern clear as she clasped her hands in front of her, sighing,** “I’m just glad you’re alright”**
  * Hubert stepped around the Emperor, past you, gaze evaluating the camp; he turned to you, a small smile on his face,** “I must say, I’m impressed; there are no signs of conflict, save your clothes”**
  * You looked down, nose scrunching at your now-ruined dress
  * **“W-wait, _she_ did all of this?”** Blatant shock showed in the remainder of the Strike Forces’ expressions; you were well-known among the army as being one of the kindest people, usually found either tending the wounded, retrieving supplies, or playing with the children of Enbarr
  * Your head raising again, you glanced between the two groups, tone holding a touch of mischief,** “I’ve picked up a few things from watching your training sessions”**
  * The emperor laughed,** “So it seems.”** She took your hands in hers,** “Regardless, I think it’s far past time we return home, yes, our rose?”**


	13. Felix Hugo Fraldarius/f!Reader - Look, I'm...Sorry

**anonymous asked:**

**Can we have some angst with Felix? Maybe he snaps at his s/o and it really hurts her? Ending with some fluff maybe? Only if you like though. Thank you for all your stories!**

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In this house, Felix is always welcome. Thank you, Anon! And thank you for your continued support!

~Latte ღ

\--------

  * Felix huffed as he struck the training dummy in front of him, scowling as it rocked on its base from the force
  * He swung again, feeling the sword’s grip dig into his palm, a shout of frustration escaping him
  * He did not notice the creak of the training ground’s door as you slipped inside, carefully closing it behind you
  * You leaned against one of the stone pillars, watching the lithe male in front of you
  * Only when you saw a lapse in his swings did you decide to speak,** “Felix!”**
  * The navy-haired swordsman turned to you, amber gaze piercing,** “What?!”**
  * The venom in his voice was unmistakable. Despite your familiarity with him, you flinched, confidence faltering as you laced your hands in front of you, gaze cast to the side, **“I just wanted to see if…you’d like to get dinner with me?”**
  * The sound of metal against wood filled the sparring ground as he hit the dummy again for emphasis,** “Can’t you see I’m busy?”**
  * You shuffled the toe of your shoe into the dust, arms crossing as your eyes met his again,** “I can see that, yes. I just figured that maybe you would want to take a break and spend time with your girlfriend”**
  * He scoffed, tone still biting,** “Ha. Honestly, with how long we’ve been together, you’d _think_ you’d know me better. Unless you’re here to spar–which, obviously, you’re not–get. out.”**
  * A shocked expression crossed your face. You felt your chest tighten;_ never_ had Felix been that harsh with you. You swallowed, tears beginning to prick your eyes; your voice was weak,** “Fine then”**
  * You turned on your heel and only just managed to restrain yourself from sprinting out of the training grounds
  * Your hands shook as you quickly opened the large, oaken door, heartbeat pounding in your ears as you all but ran outside; in your haste, you missed the young heir call after you
  * He groaned, turning and throwing the training blade at the dummy, and pushed the loose strands of his hair back. He huffed, his shoulders dropping as his gaze traveled over his shoulder; the last thing he ever wanted to do was to make you cry

——–

  * You managed to get to your room before breaking, letting your weight push the door closed as you leaned against it, sliding to the floor
  * Knees folding to your chest, your arms wrapped around them as you tried to stifle your sobs, breath hitching
  * You ran one hand through your hair, your vision blurry; try as you might to swipe the tears from your face, they kept falling

——–

  * How long you stayed there, you had no clue, only startling when a knock rapped on your door
  * You shakily stood, wiping the remainder of the now-cooled tears off your cheeks
  * You peeked out from the crack in the door as you opened it, seeing Felix leaning against the opposite wall
  * Opening it wider, you leaned your head against the dark wood, waiting
  * Copper eyes softened upon seeing you, face flushed, eyes red and swollen from crying, over_ him_, of all things
  * He pushed himself off of the stonework, striding forward until he could easily reach out for you; he did not, however, instead exhaling slowly as his expression, and with it his pride, fell,** “May I come in?”**
  * You remained silent, opening the door wider and stepping to the side, allowing the young man entry
  * He walked past you, stiff, uncertain; he turned to face you as you closed the door, your hands finding your upper arms; your gaze was attached to the rug-covered floor
  * He bit his lower lip, outstretching his hands to reach for you before halting them
  * The indigo-haired swordsman sighed, arms dropping to his sides once again, his gaze anywhere but you. His tenor was soft, strained,** “Look, I…I’m really sorry about what I did to you, what I said. I never, _never_ meant to make you cry. And you have no obligation to forgive me, but–“**
  * **“Felix.”** you whispered, cutting him off. Your eyes rose to meet his as you stepped into his space, arms still held around yourself,** “It, it’s okay”**
  * **“No, it’s not.”** He reached for you then, hands settling onto the swell of your hips.** “I hurt you, and that’s not okay”**
  * A puff of laughter escaped you, blinking languidly as one of your hands came to rest on his chest, trailing over the fabric**  
**
  * **“Anything I can do to make it up to you, name it”**
  * A close-lipped smile crossed your face then as you leaned up to kiss his cheek; his hold tightened, hands sliding to the small of your back
  * Your other hand found his jaw, warm from the blush you knew had risen on his face
  * Felix turned his head slightly, nose brushing your temple; one of his hands traced up your back, rubbing between your shoulder blades
  * The sharpness of his voice long-gone, he mumbled,** “You know how much I love you, right?”**
  * You hummed, nestling your face into the junction of his neck and shoulder,** “I do, and do you know how much I love you?”**
  * A chuckle rumbled through his chest,** “Quite a bit, if you put up with my attitude.”** You felt the edge of a smile against your head
  * _Yes, you did, in fact, love him quite a bit_


	14. Sylvain Jose Gautier/f!Reader - Betrothal Be Damned

**Can I request Sylvain being forced betrothed to a fellow crest holder but he despises her, so he tries to ignore her or flirt with others to discourage her but later falls in love with her when he realizes that she truly cares him.**

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Ooh, interesting! I like it! (Also I love playing with the darker aspects of Sylvain’s character) Thank you and hope you enjoy!

~Latte ♡♡

((Extremely long Sylvain-loving hours to make up for this taking so long, also so much love for this cynical idiot;;))

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  * Sylvain was not amused at his father’s proposition of an arranged marriage; he would have rather had both his feet cut off, if he were being honest
  * His mood soured even further when his father mentioned who you were:_** “She is a Crest bearer of House Chevalier; this could be the chance to revive one of the lost lines, Sylvain. It is not up for debate”**_
  * _A Crest bearer, huh? Bet she’ll be just like the others_
  * He was callous during the introductions: bowing as necessary, kissing your hand when he must; but his eyes never met yours, a smile never crossed the his face

——–

  * Dinner was…awkward, at best; your fathers made pleasant conversation, discussing details of the wedding and of joining the bloodlines, how beneficial the arrangement would be
  * You chanced a glance at Sylvain, seated across from you; the redhead barely ate, expression contorted in what you could only assume was contempt
  * His gaze lifted to find yours, chocolate eyes holding an ire that left you stunned; you cowed, quickly dropping your focus to your plate, pushing the remaining food with your fork
  * As far as you knew, you had not done anything to upset the young Gautier;_ Why does he hate me so much?_

_——–_

  * You and Sylvain did not meet again until entering the academy, almost two years later
  * Despite his engagement, the heir to Gautier had remained quite the skirt-chaser, shamelessly flirting and flaunting to every woman he saw…all of them except you, of course
  * You had tried everything over the past two years to appeal to the young man: letters were never returned, visits never scheduled; Sylvain wanted nothing to do with you, and that was that
  * Now, seeing his rakish behavior involving other women, especially around you, shattered your heart
  * However, despite all that the future Margrave had done to passively dissuade you, you held feelings for him; from what little you had gathered from the other girls, he was kind, honest, a gentleman, not to mention handsome. You could not care less about the aspect of Crests, his or your own; in the end, they did not matter
  * His behavior came to a head as the year wore on, blatantly displaying acts of debauchery when you were near him–kissing them, pawing at their curves and clothes; you simply turned the other cheek, refusing to give him the satisfaction of your breaking the engagement, though many nights found you crying silently in your dorm

——–

  * His attitude changed little once the war started, the only difference being that he now focused more on defending his homeland than bedding women
  * You were forced to remain away from the front lines, despite your skill on the battlefield, now staying in the Gautier estate,_** “For the sake of your blood,”**_ your father had once mentioned
  * Your mind wandered constantly to your redheaded fiancé:_ Is he alive? Is he safe?__ Is he taking care of himself?_
  * Though it appeared your feelings would never be reciprocated, you still found yourself attracted to, and dare you say loving, the young soldier
  * Late one evening, you made your decision: you would join the war raging in Gautier territory alongside Sylvain, against your father’s wishes

——–

  * You found yourself weaving through both enemy and allied forces, snow crunching under your feet as you dodged a bloodied gauntlet, having sneaked away just over a week ago now
  * Countering, you ducked under a lance, thrusting your weapon into your opponent’s side, shuddering as you heard her garbled cry
  * Hearing someone shout your name, you whipped around, craning your neck to look at the rider on the stocky, liver chestnut horse in front of you
  * Sylvain’s chocolate eyes were conflicted, mixtures of anger, frustration, confusion, shock.** “Why are you here?!”**
  * **“To fight for you, why else?”**
  * **“You’re–”** He signaled his mount to pivot, lance piercing an enemy warrior. His head tilted back to you, tone harsh,** “You’re supposed to be at the estate”**
  * **“I’m perfectly aware of that.”** Sharply turning on your heel, you downed another Imperial soldier
  * **“Then why–damn it!”**
  * The shrill cry of the charger behind you left your ears ringing as you spun; the ruddy brown horse reared, head tossing as it began to flip, taking the redhead with it
  * You felt your breath plug your throat; under a horse that size, Sylvain would not escape injury, even if he avoided death
  * Instinct taking over, you dashed forward, well out of the way of the animal’s thrashing hooves, catching the enemy by surprise as your weapon stole his life
  * Glancing over the surrounding field to insure there were no invading troops unengaged, you turned, rushing to your betrothed’s side
  * You were shaking as you kneeled next to him; he was alive, thank the goddess, but the grimace on his features told you he was not unscathed
  * The charger had barely missed his left leg, the beast still
  * Your fiancé inhaling through gritted teeth brought your focus back You caught his jaw with your hand, bringing his gaze to you; your voice trembled,** “Where?”**
  * His tone was strained as he responded,** “Shoulder–dislocated it, I think”**
  * Nodding numbly, you gently prodded his left shoulder to gauge the injury, pulling your hands away when he gave a pained cry
  * **“I’m sorry”**
  * **“Don’t be.”** The ginger swallowed, exhale shaky.** “Just–help me up, yeah?”**
  * Offering your hand, you helped the paladin to his feet, afterward stooping to pick up his lance; he took the pole weapon from you, flipping it once in his good hand,** “Let’s find a healer, shall we?”**

——–

  * Tapping gently on the flap of Sylvian’s tent, you moved into his line of sight through the small opening
  * He motioned you in with his right hand, his left arm sling-bound
  * Running the free hand through his hair, he nodded toward a chair in front of a desk
  * You sat easily, facing him; though you were exhausted from the battle, you agreed to meet with the heir when he summoned you, and your standing needed to be discussed
  * The young man cleared his throat, brown eyes flitting anywhere but you,** “I’m sorry for calling on you so late, but I just wanted to say thank you, for what you did today. Had you not been there, I don’t know what would’ve happened to me”**
  * Your eyes found him as he spoke, slight bewilderment in your expression; face beginning to flush, you dropped your gaze,** “I…of course, Sylvain. But, you don’t need to thank me”**
  * He examined your figure, his voice quieter,** “I still have to know though: why are you here in the first place?”**
  * **“I,”** you hesitated, fidgeting with your hands in your lap; you glanced down,** “I was worried”**
  * The paladin inclined his head, brows furrowing, waiting for you to explain further
  * **“…about you”**
  * Something in Sylvain’s heart halted at the words;_ After all that he had done, to you, to your pride, to your heart, you were still concerned for him?_
  * **“If I may be so bold, why worry about me? I haven’t exactly shown you the same concern”**
  * You squirmed a little in your seat;_ Why so many questions?_** “Because, a large part of me holds feelings for you, even if you don’t return them. I don’t care about your stupid Crest, or mine for that matter”**
  * His tongue felt heavy, words for once evasive;_ You cared? You truthfully, honestly, wanted **him**, no strings attached?_ His pulse quickened, gaze locked on you,** “…Come here”**
  * Without hesitation, you stood, slowly crossing the small space to where he was seated on the edge of the bed
  * Once you were within range, he reached out for your left hand, so much smaller than his own; his grip was solid, more calloused than yours. Brown eyes met yours, searching, inquisitive,_** “Are you sure?”**_
  * You squeezed his hand, affirmation
  * Though there was no ring on your finger, no symbol of engagement anywhere on either party, you both knew this was a promise, one you had waited so long for, one he had longed to give
  * Your other hand rested on the slope of his neck, fingertips playing at the short hair against his nape as he stroked your knuckles with his thumb
  * A hint of a smile crossed his face; eyes glinting, he whispered,** “Once this war’s over, we’ll have the grandest wedding in all of Fódlan”**
  * You beamed, laughing breathily as you ducked your gaze and bit your lower lip
  * He chuckled, smile broadening;_ Goddess, had you always been this beautiful?_
  * **“Hey, now, don’t get all bashful on me. I swear to you, we’ll live to see the end of this; and we’ll live a long, happy life, together”**
  * You felt tears stinging your eyes as you bent to kiss him, your hand gliding to cradle his jaw
  * He smiled into the kiss, his hand slipping out of yours to hold your face
  * You pulled back a fraction, forehead pressing to his, both slightly breathless. Your voice was barely audible, only one word needed,** “Together”**


	15. Hubert von Vestra/Reader - Accidental Confessions

**anonymous asked:**

**If it’s not too much trouble, can I get Hubert accidentally injuring his crush during training and in their injured stupor, they confess their love for him? Love this vampire man**

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It’s never too much trouble, Anon! I’m blessed to have the opportunity to write things for you all. And I love him too :)

~Latte ♡

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  * You felt the rush of dark magic to your right as you dodged, kicking off of your left foot to balance yourself as you dashed forward, weapon poised to counter
  * Hubert was faster, sidestepping your lunge while dark magic coiled in his hands, voice cocky,** “You’re too hasty, too aggressive; you’ll never land a hit like that”**
  * Smirking, your eyes narrowed as you turned on your heel, facing the mage again. This had become a game of sorts to you both: you gaining the chance to raise your resistance against magic wielders; Hubert gaining knowledge of you and your fighting style
  * Truth be told, he was impressed by you; despite your upfront attacks, you were agile, graceful with your weapon, with the determination to continue strengthening your weak points. He fancied you, in a way
  * You, likewise, had become quite taken with the Princess’s retainer; imposing, near-arrogant, teasing, but an adept dark mage–one of the few at the Academy. Yes, you were_ more_ than fond of the Vestra heir
  * A blast of dark magic shot forward from his hands; you leaned, aiming for a bluff to your opponent
  * Though he called your feint from the moment you began, Hubert had not anticipated your true direction
  * The second spell left his control before he had a chance to dispel it, careening toward its intended target
  * Purple energy slammed into your side. You gave a sharp cry, both in pain and surprise; you felt the warmth of magic burns beginning to form under your uniform, skin blistering and crawling
  * You vaguely felt slender hands grip your upper arms; at some point, your weapon had clattered to the ground. Your legs were shaky, your breath shallow, your vision unfocused
  * The mage called for someone to fetch Manuela before addressing you 
  * His hold was the only thing keeping you standing; you were incoherent, dazed, mumbling to yourself under your breath, though he could not tell what
  * Though he did not feel full_ remorse_ or_ guilt_ per se–he had not meant to hurt you, after all–, Hubert did feel a twinge of doubt;_ Was his chance with you ruined?_
  * In his soliloquy, he was not prepared for you to lean into him, placing a trembling hand over his
  * You murmured something under your breath, a small smile crossing your features
  * _Were you delusional? In shock?_ The spell he hit you with had not been powerful, but your resistance was not the greatest; it could have done more damage than expected
  * He tilted his head towards you, asking you to repeat yourself
  * Your voice was a little louder this time, though incredibly slurred,** “I said…I like you, a lot”**
  * Hubert was not startled by many things, but your_ confession_? It floored the future minister. He felt heat clawing at his neck; his heart stuttered; words refused to find him
  * Finally, his voice returned, quiet, unsure,** “I…surely your injury has affected your judgment”**
  * You squeezed the hand under yours loosely, laugh strained and breathy,** “I’m quite sure, Hubert; but, if you don’t feel the same way–”**
  * His chartreuse eyes widened slightly, clearing his throat,** “No, no, I…”**_ How did he feel, exactly? Relieved? Grateful? Concerned? What would Lady Edelgard think of this development?_
  * He chose his next words carefully, the barest hint of a smile on his lips,** “I am honored that you feel the same.”** He did not miss the soft smile that lit your face;_ Yes, I am truly honored that you’ve chosen me_


	16. Hubert von Vestra/Reader - Divided Attention

**anonymous asked:**

**I feel like since Hubert is so devoted and protective of Edelgard that it would definitely transfer to his s/o once he’s fully committed to them. It’s probably hard for him to split his attention on the battlefield so I wonder if someone would maybe get hurt. *wink wink* It sucks when there aren’t any healers in range, you know?**

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Huh, that _is_ a real shame, Anon. Hubert’s definitely devoted, but it would be hard for even _him_ to keep up with two people during the thick of battle. Not to mention healers seem rather scarce in Adrestia. *_sighs_* Oh well

((Thank you for being so patient!! :’) ))

~Latte ♡

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  * The din of conflict was near deafening, the sounds of grinding metal and pounding hooves and shouting soldiers all you could hear
  * You pivoted, blocking an enemy’s axe with your shield before swinging your weapon, feeling it connect with its target
  * Quickly freeing it as the warrior fell to his knees, you stepped back, catching your breath as you surveyed the field
  * Your battalion fought around you, their numbers dwindling but holding against the Knights’ own. To your left you saw Caspar and Ferdinand, cutting down the enemy’s reinforcements; on your right was Bernadetta, nocking an arrow before quickly releasing it, a pegasus falling seconds later
  * The Knights had effectively separated the Imperial army, a large brigade forcing the generals apart from their leader; you and the other three were currently fighting to regroup with the remainder of the Strike Force

——–

  * Murmuring the remainder of the incantation, Hubert released the dark magic, serrated spikes impaling the paladin and his mount
  * He glanced over his shoulder to Edelgard only a few paces away; she swiftly cut down an enemy bishop, Aymr’s head twitching
  * Returning his focus to the advancing knight, he blasted them with another spell, heavy armor sizzling as its occupant screamed; it did little to protect against magic
  * Far to his right, Petra and Dorothea challenged a wyvern knight, weapons gleaming and tome shimmering in the fierce evening sun; Linhardt had fallen to the rear line, doing his best to keep as many soldiers on their feet as he could
  * He could not see his partner nor the remaining Strike Force through the throng of troops, both Imperial and Church; he called to his allies, clear and commanding, **“Hold the line. Push them back against the other front they’ve so _carelessly_ made. Reinforcements will arrive shortly. We’ll pincer them then”**

——–

  * They were not prepared for enemy auxiliaries, however; fresh soldiers in brilliant white armor forcing both fronts to fall on the defensive and dividing the nine of you further
  * You cut through a brawler, only glancing briefly as he dropped to his knees before you turned and swung at another foe
  * You grunted as you felt your weapon connect with a thick, iron shield, the reverberation of the impact needling up your arm and shoulder
  * Wincing in both pain and exhaustion, you backed away, placing your shield in front of you; sweat stung your eyes as it slid down your face. The fortress knight was hulking, but nothing you could not handle

——–

  * Hubert swallowed as he caught his breath, his magic nearly depleted, if his waning spell strength told him anything; the Empire’s numbers still far outweighed those of the Knights, yet the opponent still refused to yield
  * He pulled the bow from its sheath on his back, nocking an arrow and releasing it into a pegasus, ivory barding catching the red of late twilight as it fell from the sky. Archery was not something he used often; but it was invaluable, all the same
  * He glanced around; in the chaos, he had lost sight of not only his lover, but of the other commanders, Lady Edelgard included
  * The dark bishop nocked another arrow, letting it cripple an approaching brigand, his damaged knee giving; satisfied, Hubert pivoted, trying to catch a glimpse of any of the Strike Force, his Emperor and partner especially
  * To feel the blazing pierce of a sword was not what he expected. He coughed, startled, before dropping to one knee, sucking in a sharp breath as its owner pulled the blade from his back, chartreuse eyes snapping shut
  * He faintly heard someone call his name, multiple people shouting; he laughed bitterly, _If this is where I fall, so be it; so long as Her Majesty succeeds and they survive_

_——–_

  * You paced the floor of the infirmary, stopping occasionally to glance out the window or at the pale figure lying motionless on the bed
  * You sighed, eyes traveling down the stature of your love once more; Hubert was lucky to be alive, Linhardt had told you earlier
  * Tearing your gaze away, you swallowed the lump forming in your throat. The adrenaline of battle had shifted into anxiety, your pulse near-deafening in your skull
  * Fighting to steady your breathing, you returned to his side, sitting in the chair Lin had left near the dark bishop’s cot
  * You gingerly took his long, slender hand into both of yours; _he was so **cold**_
  * You took a few deep breaths, closing your eyes. Hubert would be fine; it would just take awhile for his body to recover fully

——–

  * He awoke sometime later, the afternoon sun piercing even through his eyelids
  * Scrunching his eyelids further, he groaned; a dull ache throbbed in his back and side
  * Feeling something warm enclosing his hand, the raven-haired male turned his head, letting his eyes slowly slip open
  * You sat in the wooden chair, dozing, your head tipped forward slightly. Hubert did not miss the bruise-like marks under your eyes; _how long had he been here?_
  * He blinked, adjusting to begin to rise from the firm cot under him, before hissing and quickly abandoning the attempt
  * You jolted at the noise, the grip on your lover’s hand tightening on reflex; taking in your surroundings, you relaxed, back slumping against the hard chair once more
  * You smiled sleepily as your gaze met his, squeezing his hand—now starting to feel alive again, you noted. Reaching over with your free hand, you brushed the wavy bangs away from his eye
  * He turned his head away from you, eyebrows furrowing; so many questions ran through his mind: _How long had he been in the infirmary? Was Her Majesty alright? Were **you**? How did the Knight’s blade not kill him?_
  * Reading his distress, you hummed, **“Three days.” **You paused until his visage tilted to meet yours, **“You’ve been here three days. Her Majesty is fine, as are the other commanders. As am I.” **You smiled then, letting your free hand skim through his hair, **“The blade missed anything vital, miraculously. A couple more days and you should be good to go”**
  * Hubert huffed, his eyes darting toward the ajar door, **“I cannot afford to be here any longer. The war is in our favor; we cannot relent now”**
  * **“The war will, however, _not _be in our favor if you overwork yourself so soon. Her Majesty and the professor have been handling things”**
  * Chartreuse eyes narrowed as they reconnected with yours; you had a point, however cheeky you were about its presentation
  * You rubbed patterns into the back of his hand with your thumb, **“Rest, dear; I promise it’ll be fine”**
  * He sighed again, relenting, **“Very well.” **His hand flipped to catch yours, lacing your fingers with his, tone impish, **“Though I request you to rest as well; you look dreadful”**
  * You barked a laugh, quickly hiding your mouth behind your hand as you cleared your throat. You grinned, winking,** “Well, you don’t look much better”**
  * The Minister snorted, careful to avoid aggravating his injury,** “Regardless, thank you for standing vigil”**
  * **“You make it sound as if you’re dying”**
  * He chuckled, a small smirk peeking at the corners of his mouth,** “I don’t plan to, not for a long while yet”**


	17. Hubert von Vestra/f!Reader - Dual Tragedy

**anonymous asked:**

**Now, this might be hell angst, but can I request a spin on your miscarriage post where it also threatens Hubert’s s/o’s life? Just for added suspense ^^**

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Anon, if you’re going down, I’m going down with you; angst is my Achilles’ heel. You can absolutely request that;;;

~Latte ♡♡

((This got real long; I am so sorry, mobile users))

****Also, big warning for some descriptive stuff****

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  * A chill ran down your spine, pulling you from the comfort of sleep. Groaning softly, you tugged the bedclothes further over your figure; the manor had not been _nearly_ this cold when you retired to bed last night
  * A soft knock on the chamber door roused you again, the muted voice of your midwife reaching your ears
  * Bidding her entry, you heard her shoes tap against the floor and the latch of the bedroom door closing again as she entered
  * Your eyes opened to a squint, ignoring the dull throb behind them, gaze drifting to the older woman as she approached your bedside
  * She patted your shoulder, **“Good morning, Countess Vestra. Are you well?”**
  * You grunted, sleep still clouding the edges of your vision, **“I suppose; cold, but well”**
  * **“Countess, the room is quite warm, I assure you.” **You felt her hand press against your forehead. She _tsk_ed, displeasure evident, **“My lady, you are feverish, and pale at that. What else are you feeling?”**
  * Trying to brush your symptoms away would do no good; the older woman was both stubborn and knowledgeable. You relented, **“My head aches, but nothing more”**
  * The midwife hummed. **“How long have your symptoms been present?”**
  * **“Only since this morning”**
  * She brushed her fingertips against your temple. **“We will keep a watch on you then; send word to Count Vestra, if need be. Rest, my lady; you and the child both need it”**

——–

  * You awoke sometime later, the bedroom dimmed to deepen your sleep. Your headache was piercing now, vision blurring; your pelvis hurt like a blade had been twisted into it
  * Propping onto an elbow, you tried to shift out of bed, collapsing back onto the feather mattress seconds later
  * Your breathing had shallowed, the pain seeping into your back the longer you lay conscious
  * Tears stung your eyes as you squeezed them shut; your skin was damp with sweat_. The midwife; you needed the midwife_
  * You did not register the presence of another in the room until the figure touched your brow
  * Startled, your gaze snapped open to find the older woman, busily wetting a cloth and placing the cool rag against your heated skin, the lines on her face deepened by both the scarce candlelight and worry
  * Your voice was raspy, throat parched, **“What…what’s wrong?”**
  * **“Hush, dear; everything will be fine”**
  * The term of affection was not lost on you. Your face scrunched as you looked at her; the reassurance appeared more for her than you
  * She never met your eyes, instead pulling the blankets back, gently lifting your legs and hips to place several thick towels underneath, apologizing when you sucked in a breath through gritted teeth
  * She shushed you as she laid a thick blanket over you, different from the bedclothes previous; she dampened the cloth again
  * You swallowed, dots beginning to connect in your pain-addled mind: _You were miscarrying, with your husband miles away at the palace_
  * You whimpered as a surge of pain shot through your hips, tipping your head to the side; a chill trailed down your spine in the moments after

——

  * In the hours that followed, your breathing became more laboured; your fever broke, replaced by a minute but steady dropping of your temperature; your pain increased, no amount of specialty teas able to lessen it. Sleep had come uneasily, leaving you dozing with little knowledge of the time
  * The midwife had sent an express message to your husband, entrusting it with the fastest flyer the household had
  * Several other healers and physicians had come and gone, each baring an expression more troubling than the last; terms like _sepsis_, _inevitable_, and_ hospice _rolling in your skull like boulders
  * The older woman held your icy hand in hers, stroking your knuckles
  * Your head lolled from side to side every so often, skin sticky with dried sweat; your chest ached from struggling for breath, back and pelvis a constant thorn
  * A heat against your inner thighs caused you to jolt, exhausted muscles seizing weakly as the scent of blood and infection filled the air
  * The midwife stood, placing your hand against the bed before pulling the blanket away from your lower half. Your eyes closed as your nose twitched, deciding not to look at the horror show that miscarriage was
  * You faintly heard a call for another physician, your mind racing; _Where was Hubert? Were you going to die? Was this a bad sign? By some off chance, good?_

_——–_

  * A sharp rap on the study door caused Hubert to pause; dipping his quill into the ink pot again, he called, **“Come in”**
  * He continued to write as the stranger approached, footsteps hurried; he glanced up as the figure, a servant of House Vestra, he noted, paused at his desk
  * A sealed envelope was pushed into his peripheral, **“Forgive the intrusion, my lord.” **The flyer was near breathless, eyes shifting nervously as the count took the letter
  * Breaking the seal, the raven-haired man glanced over the correspondence, his mind catching on few details: it was from the _midwife_, not his wife; it was hastily written, with little heed of fixing errors; and the word _miscarriage_, bold and clear on the page
  * Clearing his throat, he addressed the messenger, not sparing him a glance, **“Thank you; you are dismissed”**
  * Hubert released a shuddering exhale once he heard the door latch shut. He pinched the bridge of his nose, running the hand down to cover the lower half of his face; _Would the Emperor allow him to leave so suddenly?_
  * Quickly sorting his work and locking it away, he rose, reattaching his cloak and gathering his satchel; _There was one way to find out_

_——–_

  * The manor was silent as the grave when Hubert arrived, quickly stripping himself of his soaked cloak, pauldrons, and outer coat—a storm had begun halfway through the journey—and handed them off to a servant to be cleaned
  * He straightened his collar and rolled up his sleeves as he ascended the stairs, pausing only briefly in front of the bedchamber door; even from outside he could hear the bustling of physicians and healers
  * A priestess nearly knocked into him as she opened the door, a basin of water on her hip, **“Oh! Forgive me, Count Vestra. I was not aware of your presence”**
  * He simply nodded to the girl, stepping back only to give her room to exit; the midwife met his gaze, her aged face stern with stress
  * She barked an order to her troupe and wiped her hands clean before walking over to him, step sharp; she dipped her head in a bow, **“My lord–”**
  * **“Save your formalities. How are they?”**
  * **“Count Vestra, forgive me, but I cannot–”**
  * **“Goddess damn it all, woman, spare it. _How is my wife_?” **His voice had lowered to a hiss
  * The older woman, far accustomed to her liege’s temperament, held her ground, her voice low, eyes hard, **“In truth, she is dying; the child is gone. She has an infection; her body is in nearing shock. Forgive me for announcing this to you, my lord”**
  * The fire in the young man flickered, his shoulders dropping as he straightened, chartreuse eyes finding the door frame; he swallowed, mouth set in a tight line, **“May I see her?”**
  * The midwife stepped aside, floating around the room to check with the other caretakers
  * Hubert entered slowly, black boots almost silent; his heart clattered to his feet when he saw you
  * You were ashy, shiny with sweat, the rise of your chest barely visible; your brow was creased, though from pain or fighting to live he did not know
  * And the blood, goddess, _the blood_; the stench of it coated the room, mixed with decay; the amount of what he could see made his stomach lurch, nevermind how much you had actually _lost_
  * Healers and doctors stilled as the count approached the bed, step stiff, uneasy; they watched with wary eyes as he sat next to you, removing his gloves before taking your cold hand in both of his, lifting it to kiss the back of it
  * He failed to see them turn their heads away, gaze shifting to floor
  * Your head slowly turned to him, eyes cracking open as you managed a weak smile; your voice was more breath than sound, **“I’m sorry…”**
  * He shushed you immediately, baritone soft, **“You’ve nothing to be sorry for, starling.”** He held your hand in his, the other reaching to stroke your forehead, **“Save your strength”**
  * Feeling a hand firm against his shoulder, Hubert turned, neck craning to meet the eyes of the midwife
  * **“She’s been fighting since yesterday morning”**
  * **“If there is anything I can do, just say it”**
  * **“A blood transfusion, sir; we’ve done several already; however, it has only staunched a little. Though it is beginning to slow; the infection is making a hard time of it”**
  * **“I suppose magic is doing no good then”**
  * **“It is; far slower than we would like, unfortunately”**
  * He turned his free arm wrist-up, **“If it is blood she needs, then take as you will”**
  * **“Count Vestra, you cannot be serious”**
  * **“Would I joke about such a thing?”**
  * She sighed, relenting, motioning for a healer to hand her a transfusion needle, the tube it would connect to wrapped shut against your other forearm, **“You’ll feel a slight sting”**

——–

  * You awoke sometime later, a familiar warmth surrounding your hand; your body ached, though nowhere near the stabbing you felt before; you were warm, comfortably so; you no longer felt or smelled the blood from earlier, the thick towels now thinner, softer
  * You turned your head, eyes opening slowly to find your husband seated next to you, asleep in a chair; your gaze traveled to the gauze around his forearm, unblemished
  * Brows furrowing slightly, you glanced down at your arm, finding the transfusion tube absent, in its place a bandage wrapped tight, pristine; _Had he really?_
  * Eyes returning to the young man next to you, you smiled, twisting your hand in his and lacing your fingers together
  * A gentle knock on the door roused him, angled face turning before languidly muttering_** “Come in”**_
  * The midwife, goddess bless her, entered, her expression shifting to one of surprise and elation, **“Well, good afternoon to you both”**
  * At this, Hubert startled, head turning to you; the joy that softened his stare and tipped the edges of his mouth up made your heart melt
  * You gave a closed smile in return, squeezing his slender fingers between yours
  * Patting your leg, the older woman checked the towels quickly, her sigh of relief not escaping either of you; **“You are recovering nicely, Countess Vestra.” **She addressed your husband, **“And _you_, do you feel more at ease, Count Vestra?”**
  * At the quirk of your brow, she chuckled, **“_This one_ refused to leave your side, even after being told that you were stable. I’m sure you’ve figured out by now that he gave us the time we needed”**
  * Your smile broadened as you nodded, your gaze finding him again
  * **“If I had to guess,” **the woman continued, **“I’d imagine you’re both quite famished after such an ordeal. May I get you something?”**
  * Hubert looked at you for confirmation; at your nod, he replied, **“If you would be so kind.” **He stopped her as she turned on her heel, his tone strikingly sincere, **“And, thank you for everything you’ve done”**
  * **“Of course, my lord. I have served this family since before you were born; it is my pleasure to do all that I can for you both.” **The door clicked shut behind her
  * You stared at the ceiling, eyes trailing to the crown moulding; your tone held a bittersweet lilt, **“So, what do we do now?”**
  * He kissed the back of your hand, his response somber, **“We grieve, pick up the pieces, knit them back together, and move forward.” **At your almost shocked expression, he continued,** “It will not be easy; we lost our child, nearly you with them. It will take time. But, I will be with you every step of the way.” **He bit his lower lip in thought, holding your hand in both of his,** “I promise you, I will not lose you again, my starling”**

**Author's Note:**

> Want to make a request? Or just want to chat? Visit me on tumblr: @iced-coffee-and-imagines


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